


Not Merely a Vessel

by Lintalome



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Erotica, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-29
Updated: 2011-11-29
Packaged: 2017-10-26 16:45:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lintalome/pseuds/Lintalome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raised by strict rules of conduct and devoted to a cold-hearted Valie who used her as a witless puppet for more years she can remember, Rosriel lived with the delusion that her sole purpose was to birth offspring and then wither inwardly when having fulfilled her duty…a frigid vessel, empty and hollow…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Merely a Vessel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spiced_Wine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiced_Wine/gifts).



> The ficlet was written as a gift for [Spiced Wine](http://efiction.esteliel.de/viewuser.php?uid=3) and takes place within her story [Magnificat of the Damned. Book II. Resurrection](http://efiction.esteliel.de/viewstory.php?sid=41). The ficlet is set right after a scene with Rosriel and Fanari in _Chapter 48 - A Storm Is Coming_ , but also refers to a scene with Gil-galad and Rosriel (who is his mother in this AU) in _Chapter 47 - Betrayal Lies Between Us_.
> 
>  **Beta:** [ Beruthiels_Cat](http://www.lotrfanfiction.com/viewuser.php?uid=2674). Thank you for helping me going through with this ficlet, you know it was rather challenging for me at times and I had to struggle to finally get it done. Would not have made it without you *hugs*
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** Rosriel and Fanari belong to [Spiced Wine](http://efiction.esteliel.de/viewuser.php?uid=3), who kindly allowed me to play with her two OFC ladies. Thank you!

 

 

~ * ~

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

The low, steady humming of the camp outside and the occasional hissing of the braziers were the only sounds that broke the pondering silence in Rosriel’s tent. Oblivious of her surroundings, Rosriel sat on her bed; tightly clutching the half filled wine cup in her hands while her thoughts revolved around the words Fanari had spoken, which now kept resounding in her head.

_Empty vessels can be filled._

Rosriel had felt this ever-present, cold emptiness within her since she had come of age, it had been a part of her just as her arms and legs were parts of her body. She had believed it the natural tenor of events, something every woman had to endure eventually after they had fulfilled their duty of birthing offspring. It had not been her place to question it, yet at times a tiny little voice in her mind cried out that it was not right. Unlike herself, other women had experienced the pleasures a woman could feel before their longing faded. They were not hollow like she was; in them there still resounded an echo of the passion they had been allowed to feel, whereas she had never been graced with the like.

Yet Rosriel had always nipped her rising doubts in the bud, she had been brought up to be an obedient daughter and had been graced with other things instead. Elbereth had chosen her to serve her and spread her word, a privilege bestowed upon very few and well worth enduring the small discomforts of an arranged marriage and a life lacking passion. Her marriage to Fingon was something many a woman had envied her, well knowing it had not been out of choice, but a duty the son of Fingolfin had to fulfil; yet Rosriel had not been able to prevent the bitterness that gnawed at her and the hatred following in its wake.

With a choking sob, Rosriel surfaced from her musings. Never before had the emptiness within her felt so all-consuming and intense; holding her in a merciless grip that made her shiver. She gulped down the last of her wine, washing down the bile that rose with her increasing despair, yet the warmth that trickled down her throat and filled her belly did nothing to drive away the chill. It felt as if a spike of ice pierced her chest. Tears streamed down her cheeks without restraint, but Rosriel did not care; all she yearned for was her inner numbness to leave her, she longed to be filled…with warmth…with _something_.

The gentle touch at her shoulder made Rosriel start violently before she stared at the woman in front of her as if transfixed. Fanari…she had completely forgotten about the other woman’s presence in the tent, too lost in thought to take notice of her surroundings. Coming back to her senses, Rosriel startled anew when she felt a strange wetness slowly seep through her gown. Glancing down, her eyes widened when she saw the garment was soaked crimson where she had imagined a spike of ice piercing her heart moments before.

Panicked, Rosriel’s hands flew to her chest, while her eyes gazed at Fanari in helpless despair. The other woman was speaking to her, Rosriel could see her lips moving, yet the only sound she heard was the pulsing of her blood and the rapid beating of her heart. Slowly, a familiar scent registered in her dazed mind and she sighed; releasing the breath she had not been aware she was holding.

“Wine,” Rosriel whispered absently. “Not blood.”

She felt the weight of Fanari’s gaze on her, but only shook her head, hoping the other woman would accept her silence. Her emotions were like a thick lump in her throat weighing as heavily as a stone, but even though she yearned to confide in someone, Rosriel knew she could not muster the strength to explain the complex tangle of emotions she was experiencing.

“I startled thee when I refilled thy wine cup, I did not realize thou hadst been so deeply lost in thought. Thou didst flinch and all the wine spilled across thy gown,” Fanari explained calmly, sensing Rosriel’s confusion. “Thy reaction worried me, I can see thy thoughts trouble thee deeply, but I will not press the matter. I know thou wilt speak of them at thy own pace.”

Her shoes were removed and neatly placed aside, and Rosriel did not resist when she was gently guided to her feet. Fanari’s grip on her shoulders soothed her, and when she started to undo the hooks and laces of her gown to help her out of the wine-soaked garment, Rosriel clung to her in spite of herself. The soiled gown slid to the ground into a pool of thick velvet, and Rosriel stood in her undergarments; the crimson wine appearing even more like blood where it had soaked the pale silk. The sight caused Rosriel to violently shiver anew, and even though her mind screamed that what she was doing was utterly wrong, she allowed Fanari to pull her into a gentle embrace.

It felt good to be held, sheltered; and her troubling thoughts slowly drained from her. Gentle hands rubbed soothing circles across her back and without further thought, Rosriel closed her eyes and rested her head on Fanari’s shoulder. They stood like this for long, and eventually Rosriel’s shivering ceased and was replaced by slowly spreading warmth, causing her to sigh with relief. She became aware of a vaguely familiar scent, and with a start Rosriel realised it was Fanari’s.

Again her mind cautioned Rosriel to withdraw, yet she did not. She inhaled deeply of the now familiar fragrance, astonished when it caused a light fluttering in her belly and a strange yearning she could not place, yet made her flush with a mix of anticipation and embarrassment. Rosriel lifted her head and gazed at Fanari, the knowing look in the other woman’s eyes wakening an anxiety within her that made her tremble.

“Hush! There is nothing wrong in it.” Rosriel faintly heard Fanari’s voice as she tried to pull away, but then froze when a hand began to caress her face ever so lightly while the other resumed rubbing her back. The new touch was unfamiliar, yet not unpleasant and Rosriel let her eyes fall shut again. Fingertips ghosted across her cheeks and lips, her jaw; then explored the sweep of her neck, causing Rosriel to exhale sharply when it made her skin flicker. She felt a renewed flush across her skin, yet did not withdraw; revelling in the new sensation.

The caress ceased, but Rosriel’s involuntary murmur of protest was transformed into a gasp of surprise when she suddenly felt soft lips brush against her own. Her eyes flew open in shock, the voice in her mind shrill with alarm.

“Let go of thy unease,” the lips murmured against hers. “Stop thinking. Just feel.”

Again Fanari’s lips met hers, lingering, waiting for Rosriel to relax. _Fingon’s lips never felt so good to me_ , was her sudden thought, yet Rosriel felt no bitterness; rather, it calmed her. Even the thought of physical intimacy had been repugnant to her then, but now, she desperately craved _something_. She could not even put her longing in words. She enjoyed Fanari’s touch as the other woman freely offered the comfort she needed. It was so tempting to simply give in and surprisingly, it no longer felt wrong at all.

Tentatively, Rosriel responded to the kiss, bowing her head only a fraction to increase the delicate contact of their lips. This was all so new, she felt shy like a young girl, amazed how this tender caress made her stomach flutter. Hesitantly, she reached out a hand and touched Fanari’s cheek, felt the softness of the woman’s skin beneath her fingertips and the warmth of her wine-sweet breath ghosting across her face. Would she taste of wine, spice and honey? A curious anticipation washed over Rosriel and with a sigh she parted her lips in invitation and let Fanari lead her.

 

*~*~*

 

Rosriel felt as if she was floating; her anxiety fading with each touch, replaced by the sensation of growing delight. Hands caressed her body without haste, slowly peeled away her wine soaked undergarments to expose more skin and pay it the same delicate attention. Each curve and hollow of her upper body was mapped with gentle fingers and Rosriel closed her eyes, not daring to caress the other woman in return; both because she was astonished by the intensity of what she felt and for her lack of experience.

Fanari’s warm skin was smooth against her own, yet before she could even wonder how the woman had managed to undress without her knowing it, the thought fled Rosriel’s mind when suddenly a tongue joined the caressing hands; tasting the remnants of wine on her skin. A moan of surprised bliss escaped her lips when the tongue lapped at her breast, circling her nipple; then gently sucked until it hardened into a rosy bud. Her fingers wove into Fanari’s hair, seeking support when this small, unfamiliar caress overwhelmed her and made her unsteady on her feet.

Together they sank down onto the furs, embracing, yet in no hurry. Rosriel was grateful; everything felt new and she needed time to slowly adjust. She had not been aware of the sensitivity of her body; yearned to savour each touch to the fullest while she anticipated what else there was to discover. Eagerly, she responded when Fanari kissed her again, sighing contentedly when the woman’s hands resumed caressing her body. Feather light kisses traced a path along the side of her neck, across her collarbone, then down to her breasts and Rosriel arched her back with a moan when the woman’s soft lips closed around a nipple once more, sucking it, lingering before moving to the other.

In concert, Fanari’s fingertips stroked her abdomen and teased her navel, then moved up again only to slowly trail down her side and caress her hip and massage her buttocks. Rosriel _felt_ with an intensity that made her shiver with delight. She heard a moan, her own, the observation making her blush; yet she did not try to suppress it when another deep sigh escaped her lips. Time did not matter, minutes, hours, Fanari’s hands and lips roamed her body for what seemed sweet eternity, yet Rosriel _craved_ , arched into Fanari’s touch ever more ardently.

Fingers stroked the insides of Rosriel’s thighs in slow circles, wandering upwards, drawing ever closer to her most intimate place. Her eyes flew open as she froze; Fanari’s fingers withdrawing instantly upon sensing her tension. The warning voice surfaced from the depth of Rosriel’s dazed mind, cautioning her with painful urgency to stop; to sin no further, yet at the same time her body mourned the loss of the blissful sensation and ached for the caress to continue.

Her body and mind at odds, Rosriel gazed at Fanari, seeking an answer in the woman’s eyes; yet she knew she would not find it. It was her _own_ decision to make. Her body still hummed with the pleasure she had experienced, yearning for something it seemed to know of its own accord. She pressed closer against Fanari, buried her face in the woman’s fragrant hair; seeking comfort in the closeness and warmth her body exuded. Yet the voice in her mind demanded she stop, told her what she craved was shameful.

The response of her body to the unknown caress felt natural; the intimacy not repulsive at all; it rather flooded her with warmth, filled what had always felt unnaturally hollow. _I do not wish to stop!_ A previously unknown part of herself stirred, the woman she had never been allowed to be, and Rosriel’s awakening spirit braced itself against that other, demanding inner voice. _I want this, for myself. I want to know what I have always been denied._ The voice rose in defiance, struggled to gain dominance, yet lost when the woman’s cry tore through it. _Leave me alone!_

“I do not wish to stop,” Rosriel murmured into Fanari’s hair. Lifting her head she gazed into Fanari’s eyes intently. _“I do not wish to stop!”_

 

*~*~*

 

The clash of the two opposing parts of herself reawakened Rosriel’s initial anxiety, and again she was grateful for Fanari’s unwavering patience and silent support. She was uneasy, but the other woman did not press her. Fanari enfolded her in a comforting embrace, gently stroking her hair and neck until the unease ebbed away and Rosriel’s body stirred with renewed longing.

Again, there was no haste when the now familiar hands and lips began to explore Rosriel’s body anew, kissing and stroking where she responded intensely, yet also discovering yet unknown areas. Closing her eyes, she surrendered to Fanari’s touch and the maelstrom of sensations it roused; her body vaulting into the caress. For a fleeting moment the thought crossed her mind that she should return the favour, but then a new wave of bliss washed over her with shocking intensity, and her moans were lost in a fervent kiss.

Bolts of pleasure shot through Rosriel’s body when Fanari’s hand slid between her thighs and a finger brushed across the sensitive bud that lay safely hidden in her most intimate place. She gasped for air, tried to bite back the cry that escaped her when her centre of pleasure was stimulated again; the sensation it elicited sweet and tormenting at once. Her hands sought something to hold onto, dug into the soft furs beneath, while her hips arched up to increase the friction.

Rosriel moaned her disapproval when the ministration ceased, just when the tension in her lower body seemed to be strung to breaking point. Fanari’s hand wandered deeper, a finger gently probing her opening before sliding inside. The intrusion made her writhe and she sucked in her breath in a helpless gasp. Holding her breath, Rosriel waited for the pain which had usually followed when her husband entered her; her body rebelling and tensing against the intrusion no matter how gentle Fingon had been.

The pain never came. Rosriel’s body was relaxed and when Fanari slowly started to explore her more intimately, waves of pleasure washed over her. A second finger joined the first and while they gently massaged her inside, Fanari’s thumb resumed rubbing her sensitive bud. Rosriel was lost; the dual stimulation was too intense, it carried her away, pleasure spiralling ever higher toward its glorious peak.

 

*~*~*

 

Rosriel had never felt so whole. Sated and content, she rested her head on Fanari’s shoulder: her body boneless and her mind drunken with the afterglow of what she had experienced. Her thoughts drifted aimlessly, awash with the echo of the myriad new feelings she had believed herself incapable of.

They lay unmoving for long; revelling in the simplicity of their silent companionship and the closeness of their embracing bodies, until Rosriel finally propped herself up on one elbow and gazed at Fanari uncertain.

“What about thee? I…” Rosriel’s words trailed off and she swallowed to regain her inner calm. “I did not return thy touch. Surely thou didst…” She swallowed again. “I could not…”

What could she say? It had required the full strength of her will to relax and submit; to touch Fanari in return would have been too great a step for her to take. Even if she could have mustered the courage, she had been too overwhelmed by the unknown bliss to do anything but simply experience it.

“Worry not,” Fanari replied with a knowing smile as she gently cupped Rosriel’s flushed cheek in her palm. “I did not expect anything. Accept it as a gift.”

Rosriel studied Fanari intensely before she finally nodded and rested her head back on the woman’s shoulder. For a moment it had seemed as if two pairs of eyes gazed back at her, yet when Rosriel blinked, the illusion was gone and only Fanari’s eyes remained, assuring her everything was as it should be. Her mind at ease, Rosriel became drowsy; her body demanding rest. Fanari was warm beside her, the woman’s steady breathing and the cocoon of soft furs around them spoke silently of shelter and peace; slowly lulling her into a deep, dreamless reverie.

 

*~*~*

 

Silently, Fanari slid out from beneath the furs, careful not to wake Rosriel; her gaze lingering on the bed for long moments. Rosriel appeared peaceful; her face relaxed, a content smile gracing her lips, her skin still aglow with the aftermath of passion. The air in the tent was heavy, pervaded with the scent of bodily pleasure; yet, faintly, there was another fragrance, one of musk and turned earth, hearth-smoke and incense.

It was time to leave. Rosriel would need her privacy and time to think when she awoke. What she had given Rosriel had been a gift from one woman to another, given wholeheartedly just as Fanari herself had received it long ago, yet it was Rosriel’s decision where she would go from here. She had breathed life into the numbness where once passion should have blossomed, yet had been repressed; but only Rosriel could keep the small spark alive and nourish it into a flame.

Brushing away a wayward lock of red hair from Rosriel’s face, Fanari pressed a last, gentle kiss on her brow; before drawing her gaze from the woman on the bed. She gathered her clothes, dressed and stepped from the tent into the cool night air; disposing of Rosriel’s soiled garments in the laundry basket more by attentive habit than thought. The sounds of the camp had died down in the dead of night, the elves retiring to sit with their families and friends or rest, before they would resume their work in the morning.

Her feet steered Fanari to the group of nearby trees of their own accord, drawn by the one she knew was waiting there; invisible, melted into the shadows. The scent of musk, turned earth, hearth-smoke and incense enveloped her again, even before the figure stepped into the moonlight, revealing the shape of the tall, ebony skinned woman whose presence had been so potent all night long.

 _Thou didst well._ The thought washed through Fanari like a warm wave, before lips captured her own in a slow kiss, flooding her with a delight too intense to describe.

 

*~*~*

 

When Rosriel woke, morning had not yet dawned. Unlike any previous morning she could ever remember, the first thing she was aware of was not the cold emptiness to which she had become so accustomed. Something within her had changed, and Rosriel closed her eyes for a moment; attempting to fathom what exactly it was.

It felt strangely unfamiliar, yet not unpleasant, nevertheless she was confused. It was as if a tiny spark had been kindled deep within her; and even though still flickering and dim, its presence seeped through her entire being. Recollecting the events of the previous evening, Rosriel felt her skin flush; her cheeks aglow with…she was not quite sure. The past dictated she should feel ashamed and disgusted with herself, guilty of having wallowed in vice by willingly partaking in unnatural acts. Yet, to her surprise, Rosriel felt neither; instead there was contentment and ease.

She knew what had happened betwixt her and the other woman would never be repeated. Their passionate encounter had not been born of lust, how could it? Lust was an empty word to her, the meaning of which she had never experienced. Just as she had not known passion until yestereve. The moments she and Fanari had shared had been driven by her own despair. She had not even known what she craved, had simply longed for _something_ , and Fanari had answered her unconscious, unspoken plea by showing her bodily pleasure for the first time in her life. The memory of Fanari’s lips and hands on her sent tendrils of warmth coiling through both her body and soul, making her strangely lightheaded.

Slowly, Rosriel peeled off the soft blankets and furs covering her and sat unmoving for a long, thoughtful moment. A cool torrent of air, flowing into her tent from outside, caressed her warm skin; the prickling sensation causing goose bumps over her body. The embers in the braziers had cooled, but despite her usual habit of calling for her maids in the nearby tent with an outraged shriek, Rosriel ignored the braziers and slowly rose to her feet. Still confused by all the new sensations she had experienced within the last few hours, she lit a candle and approached her dresser with tentative steps; setting the candle down beside the large mirror.

She stepped back and stood motionless. Unsure what had steered her steps to this place, she stared at the ground; yet in the back of her mind, she knew. With shy hesitation Rosriel slowly lifted her gaze and regarded herself in the mirror; not the way she had done countless times before, no quick, shallow glances to make sure her appearance was seemly. This time would be different. Slowly, Rosriel let her eyes wander across her body and took in every curve, hollow, and line of her shape with childlike curiosity. The flickering light of the candle cast dancing shadows onto her flawless pale skin; made her grey eyes shine in vivid shades and set the rich, red tresses framing her naked form aglow.

Again recollecting the previous evening, Rosriel’s gaze traced the path Fanari’s lips and hands had taken. Her delicately sculpted face and the curve of her full lips, so soft when not twisted by a disdainful sneer. Her neck, graceful as a swan’s, underlined by the elegant arch of her collarbones, bare as they were without being heavily draped with gems. Her breasts were small, but firm and nicely rounded. At least she thought they looked well-formed, no one had ever complimented her regarding them; she would have thought it impertinent anyway.

Her gaze shifted lower; and Rosriel took in the flat plain of her abdomen, her slim waist, the soft curve of her hips and her supple legs. Oblivious to what she was doing, she slowly moved, mimicking her maids when they strolled about the forest and meadows with a light sway of their hips accompanying each step. She had always thought this flagrant; her parents had disciplined her to move with prim demureness from childhood, and she had done so ever since. Rosriel remembered when she was young; she had sometimes longed to simply run and feel the muscles in her limbs, yet she had always subdued the urge and over the years it had faded to nonexistence.

Her eyes rose again and hesitantly her gaze came to a rest at the triangle of soft, auburn curls covering her most private parts. A renewed flush coloured Rosriel’s pale skin at the memory of gentle yet curious fingers touching her, probing her, causing her to feel a blur of unfamiliar sensations which had been shocking and arousing at the same time. She had not even known her body was capable of feeling such… _things_. She felt a tingle in her lower belly and lifted one hand, wondering how it would feel to touch her own body the way Fanari had done; but let it drop to her side again. For now she was content to merely observe herself.

What she saw should be familiar… _her_ body, the same body that had housed her soul for millennia; yet only now was Rosriel truly seeing herself for the first time. She was not, as she had been made to believe, a frigid vessel for the purpose of birthing offspring and then withering inwardly when having fulfilled her duty. She was more, she was a _woman_ and both her body and soul had needs that longed to be fulfilled, yet had been neglected all her life. The way she had been reared, the nurturing of her mind with strict, rigid rules of conduct since her early childhood, had not only bereft her of bodily pleasure, she had been denied so many things without ever questioning or even knowing why.

Tears of despair welled up in Rosriel’s eyes when the invisible veil shrouding her eyes was suddenly ripped away; the extent of her loss mercilessly impacting upon her like a hammer blow. This was what the _Mother_ had tried to make her understand; but she had been too confused and distraught, clinging to what she had been taught and defending the beliefs her life was based upon. Had she wasted all her life in delusions? Had Varda, the Valie she had worshipped and adored, truly used her as a witless puppet for more years she could remember, only to carelessly abandon her when she was no longer of use? Was it yet too late for her to find her place in a world that seemed to have been turned upside down?

Rosriel’s head snapped up, eyes glittering in the candlelight with the fierce determination only a Noldo could muster. No! Fanari had caused something to break loose within her, but facing the truth was hard and painful and Rosriel knew she still had a long journey of unlearning her previous way of thinking. She was not sure if she would ever feel comfortable with all the strange liberties the elves were now permitted, despite what she and Fanari had shared. It still felt unnatural to her to lie with someone of the same gender. Nor did she know if her hatred against certain persons would ever wane and be replaced by acceptance, respect and possibly love.

Yet, had she not already taken the most important step? She had gone to see Gil-galad, her son; an unfamiliar urge deep within her driving her into the misty mill of the great camp to seek him out. And when she set eyes upon him, she truly saw him for the first time. Elbereth’s twisting influence of her mind was gone, allowing her to see clearly and as the mother she had never been to him. The pain she had felt in him was overwhelming, it rendered her speechless. Tears had welled up in her eyes and she tried to flee, afraid to look at him and see the loathing she surely deserved. To her astonishment, the reproach she had feared never came. She felt herself enfolded in strong arms, her son’s arms, and through the haze of her mind only one word he spoke truly reached her ears… _naneth_.

They had not yet spoken about the past, for this Rosriel was grateful; the new emotions she was confronted with were too raw. They would talk, in time, now that the icy barrier between them had crumbled; but for now she needed time to comprehend her awakening and so did her son, Rosriel supposed. They had time; there was no need to rush. Coming to terms with her son was paramount, yet she also would slowly make up for all the small things lost to her in the past, pleasant things that would have brought her simple joy.

She would take small steps, taking time to come to know herself first. For now, this humble goal seemed overwhelming enough; but maybe someday she would set her sights on reaching higher objectives. Looking again at the woman who gazed back at her from the mirror, Rosriel saw a genuine smile gracing her lips. It was a kind of smile she had never before worn, and she was mesmerized by the grave difference such a small thing brought to her appearance.

 

*~*~*

 

When Fanari entered the tent soon after first light, Rosriel was still immersed in silent self-observation. The soft rustle of the tent flaps and the woman’s skirts pulled her from her musings and she met Fanari’s gaze unperturbed; yet acknowledging the small, knowing smile on the other’s face. Fanari’s eyes promised her what had transpired betwixt them would remain so. No one need know; and with a slight nod, they sealed their secret pact.

One of the maids arrived soon after; filling the washbowl with warmed water and gazing at Rosriel warily after the sharp rebuke she had suffered yestereve. Rosriel would not offer an apology. Her pride prevented it and it was certainly nothing the maid would expect. The matter was closed; she would not harp on about it. She washed quietly and remained silent when Fanari afterward took up the task of brushing her long red tresses. Yet when the maid started to lay out the heavy gown of dark red velvet Rosriel had chosen yestereve, she called her back and decided instead upon a lighter one.

She settled for a gown of flowing, mossy green silk; lightly embroidered with silver thread along the hems. The plain garment beautifully hugged the soft curves of her body, unlike the heavy drapery she usually wrapped herself within. When her maid laid out the assortment of ostentatious jewellery she normally chose from, Rosriel waved her off and chose a thin necklace with a tear-shaped green stone set in silver which complimented her eyes and décolleté without being overpowering and a matching ring. She had not worn these plain jewels in millennia. They had been gifts, but from whom she had forgotten; yet she remembered she had been young and overjoyed to receive them. Today she would not hide behind glittering baubles; she would shine for herself.

Her second maid appeared with a basket; and after bowing courteously, began to set out breakfast on the table in Rosriel’s tent as was her usual habit. Like her fellow maid, she was careful not to spur Rosriel’s anger and receive yet another tongue-lashing. When Rosriel asked her to spread furs and cushions beneath a tree outside and serve breakfast there instead, the maid startled at the unusually mild voice of the lady; but then suppressed her astonishment and quickly rushed off to do as she had been ordered. Fanari noted this improvement with a smile, yet refrained from commenting upon it; instead she gently laid Rosriel’s cloak about her shoulders, gathered her own and accompanied Rosriel outside. Both ladies gracefully sank down onto the cushions and sat in silence while the two maids bustled around them.

Rosriel had avoided being outside since she had…collapsed. She had been desperate and broken after being abandoned by Varda, and yet the _Mother’s_ presence confused and upset her. Thus she hid in her tent and veiled her uncertainty with the resentful behaviour she had become accustomed to, the protective shell of snappishness she wore like a second skin. Was this truly her nature? Had she always been like this? Few weeks ago she would have affirmed it without hesitation; today she knew she had been purposely moulded into that person. Too naïve, the girl she had been; too inexperienced to see through the charade and realize she would have had a choice. This morning, for the first time in her long life, Rosriel felt free; it both comforted and frightened her, yet it also woke a thrill of anticipation she welcomed.

Accepting a plate of sliced fruit and the steaming mug of tea Fanari offered, Rosriel slowly sipped the hot liquid and savoured the spicy taste of herbs and the sweetness of honey. Honey…unconsciously her features lit up and a small smile flashed across her face. Should she? Choosing a slice of apple from the plate, Rosriel dipped it into the honey jar and brought it to her mouth. Her parents would certainly scold her for her unbefitting manners, but they were not here and Rosriel could not care less. With a smile, she slipped the sticky morsel past her lips and sighed contentedly. This was only the first of all those denied simple pleasures she would make up for…but it certainly would not be the last. Of this, Rosriel was certain.

 

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~ * ~


End file.
